Hunger
by Your Angel of Music
Summary: As Syed feels the consequences of a tug-of-war contest during Ramadan, Christian proves that he's the best boyfriend a Muslim boy could possibly ask for.


**Title:** Hunger  
><strong>Author:<strong> MercuryPheonix (Your Angel of Music)  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> EastEnders  
><strong>Rating:<strong> K+ - some sexual references.

**Summary:** As Syed feels the consequences of a tug-of-war contest during Ramadan, Christian proves that he's the best boyfriend a Muslim boy could possibly ask for.

**A/N:** This came from the realisation, on my part, that the spoiler pictures of Chryed and the Moons taking part in a tug-of-war contest coincided with Syed's Ramadan fast. This is the result.

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><p>x<strong><br>**

**Hunger**

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Syed leant against the wall, sweat pouring from his brow as he stretched his aching muscles. Away from him, people were in a celebratory mood; he could hear the raised, jovial voices as Christian and the Moons engaged in good-natured banter about the outcome of the competition, hands clapping on backs and genial grins being exchanged. Syed felt a twinge of guilt for walking away – but the aching hunger gripping his stomach had made it almost impossible for him to fake any pleasantries.

His whole body ached with the exertion, each string of muscle craving some kind of energy. His lungs screamed out at him, gasping for their reward for the effort that they'd just put in. Deep down, he knew that he should have known better – knew that he should have held back, should have cheered on his fiancé from the sidelines rather than leaping into the macho competition.

Even that whispered promise of Christian's from earlier – _winner gets to claim their prize after sunset_ – wasn't enough to silence the sharp thirst that seemed to extend from the pit of his stomach to the roof of his mouth.

"Hey," a hand rested on his back, causing him to jerk upwards from his bent-double position. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he smiled, well aware that it was more of a grimace. "Just a bit tired, y'know?"

The hand at his back moved in small circles; left shoulder blade to right shoulder blade, down a little, lingering at the spine before moving back to the base of his neck. It was a well-trodden path – guaranteed to chase away the aches and pains with a blanket of hazy contentment.

But the hunger in his stomach; the parched screeching of his throat; the longing in his flesh for some kind of sustenance; was more powerful than even Christian's touch. As strenuously as he tried to mask it, it wasn't long before Christian realised his efforts were drenched in futility. Consequently, a frown creased his features, his hand breaking reluctantly from Syed's back so that he could rest his knuckles softly against the fevered brow.

"You're flushed," the concern in his voice seemed to increased tenfold as he cupped Syed's chin, thumb brushing against the crimson blush of his cheek. "You should drink something."

He turned, making for the Main Square – but Syed caught his arm.

"I can't," his voice came out as more of a rasp than he intended.

Christian sagged; his conviction collapsing. The concern was sharp in his eyes as he slung an arm gently around Syed's shoulder, careful not to hang the entirety of its weight on his fiancé.

"How long?"

"Sunset…so…another eight hours, maybe?"

Christian groaned; it could have been interpreted as exasperation, but Syed knew that it was pulled up from the depths of his concern.

"You can't not drink, Sy. You look like you're going to collapse."

Syed smiled, fingers creeping up to grasp at the hand that was hanging from his shoulder. He squeezed reassuringly, the tiny action running up the length of Christian's arm and encouraging him to look Syed in the eye.

"That's why it's called sacrifice," he tightened his fingers again, waiting for Christian to return the action before carrying on. "It's abstinence. It's about us resisting temptation; building our strength so that we can be better people. It's worth it in the end."

Christian sighed, a harsh, sarcastic smile twitching at his lips as he looked accusingly into the sky.

"Yeah. After you've dropped dead."

The words were barely out of his mouth before Syed had let go of his hand, swatting Christian in the chest.

"Don't make fun of me."

Christian's gaze dropped quickly, fixing Syed with the most sincere, penetrating gaze he'd had laid eyes on since…well, the last time Christian had looked at him like that.

"I'm not, Sy", he nibbled on his bottom lip, moving forward to cradle Syed's face in his hands; brushing fingers through his hair reassuringly. "I just…I see you putting yourself through this, and I worry, y'know? I don't like to see you like this. It's like you're killing yourself."

"I'm not."

"I know. I do. But – I wanna be there with you; I wanna share everything with you, but I _can't _share this. You're suffering, and I'm fine. I feel like I could do more; like I'm not doing enough."

The words hung in the air for a few seconds, reverberating between them. Syed opened his mouth to reply - but nothing came out. Instead, he reached out, splaying his fingers across the gently thumping flesh above Christian's heart and letting his thumb move in small circles above his sternum.

"I don't need you to do this with me," the gentle tone sent a calming wave crashing over Christian's guilt, drowning it. "I do it because I _want _to. It means something to me. I wouldn't want you to do it just because…you feel guilty. I never wanted that."

"Yeah, but…"

"I don't even need you to understand _why _I'm doing it; I just need you to accept that I need to do it."

He leant forward, his eyes drawing Christian's head down so that their foreheads rested together; there was a wolf-whistle from somewhere in the square, but they ignored it.

"Don't stop worrying though," he licked his lips, a mischievous lilt carrying through his voice. "I quite like you fussing around me. Doesn't happen very often."

"Oi!" Christian grinned, drumming his fingers in a deliberately annoying rhythm against Syed's jawbone. "I treat you like a princess."

"Pity I'm not a princess then," Syed pulled back slightly, looking up at Christian with an insincere pout. Christian laughed, a huffing chuckle that sent vibrations thrumming comfortably through Syed's hand.

"Aw," he ran a hand through his fiancé's hair, pressing a soft kiss against his forehead before lowering his hands to Syed's waist and pulling them together; as though they were conjoined twins, two torsos sharing one lower body.

"Tell you what, how about I take you home right now and…"

Syed groaned.

"Don't, Christian, we have to wait till sunset, remember – don't tease, it's not fair."

Christian looked affronted, his mouth gaping in mock horror at the accusation.

"Did I say anything?"

A pointed look from Syed was all that was needed.

"Okay," Christian looked thoughtful for a second, his hands clasping at the small of Syed's back; creating a tight, but comfortingly familiar pressure against Syed's starving flesh. "How about I take you home right now and run you a nice bath. Not too hot; just cool you down, relax those tense muscles, and get rid of that strangely attractive flushed look you've got going there."

Syed closed his eyes as Christian leant into him, the final words mumbled into his hair. He could feel himself relaxing in Christian's hold. The older man was like a hypnotist, using his words to send him into a calm so absolute he may as well have been sleep-walking. A contented sigh wafted across Christian's bare shoulder.

"That sounds brilliant."

"And then, we'll work out some of that tension," fingers splayed out across Syed's back. "It's about time the masseuse got some relaxation of his own, don't you think?"

Syed groaned softly against Christian's skin – a contented hum that pulled Christian's lips into a happy grin.

"You should set up your own business," Syed mumbled. "Ramadan wearing you down? Call Christian Clarke – guaranteed to help all Muslim boys forget their fasting woes."

Christian pulled Syed closer, luxuriating in the gentle breaths rustling across his shoulder.

"Don't you worry," his voice took on a sudden sincerity, arms wrapping around Syed like a protective skin; meshing them together as one strong, united figure.

"You're the only Muslim boy I'll ever help through Ramadan."

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**Fin**

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><p>Thanks for reading! Just some nice fluff for you there, before I get down with the next few chapters of <em>Magic Mirrors<em> (**lady in waiting **has now finished her drama production, which means I get to harrass her again with chapters. Hope you don't mind, dear!). Please feel free to share your thoughts!


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